When analyzing a film, two primary forces determine its quality. First, is how effective the emotional reaction is, as this is the foremost reason as to why we go to the movies. Second, is what the film does cinematically to achieve this goal. The excellent films are those that are able to push boundaries and try new things that work in ways we’ve never seen before. “Cameraperson” is such a film. It opens with a quick text describing what we’re about to see: director Kirsten Johnson has been a camera operator and cinematographer for 25 years, and in this documentary she has compiled a series of footage that she has shot, then edited it together as a memoir of her experience in this role. The result is an experimental project that pushes the potential of filmmaking and non-fiction storytelling to new heights, and a dive into something wholly unique.
From the get-go, she makes it extremely clear that there is an active human being behind the camera. In a conventional film, the artists are invisible and viewers are meant to forget the behind-the-scenes. This film starts out raw to expose the layer behind which our storyteller is operating. We see the parts that are usually omitted from a polished film, and through this, we gain an understanding of who the cameraperson is as an artist. Pulling clips from over 20 films, we then follow Kirsten Johnson and her camera all over the world: Bosnia, New York, Sudan, Yemen, Liberia, and more.
You can recognize that these images are pulled from the context of other stories, often of mass conflict and sometimes tragedy, but here Johnson uses them to tell a biographical story of her own, while at the same time miraculously covering the human condition as a whole. When two outwardly different clips are juxtaposed together, a larger narrative unfolds. Because of the sheer vastness of sources she’s pulling from, as a viewer you can feel that everything we see on screen has been deliberately put in this order to achieve a certain effect. Nothing feels out of place, and the entire runtime feels masterfully compiled.
The effect it achieves is absolutely stunning: we witness life of all forms and see universal themes everywhere. Traditionally, documentary and narrative films are made using material created in a relatively short amount of time: this film has the luxury of being able to take a step back and see the macro picture created in the filmmaker’s entire body of work, and what it means to her. The role of a “cameraperson” is one that nearly everyone inhabits daily in today’s world, and this film exposes the tribulations of when to film and what to film, questions that we all are used to deciding regularly. Our director may be a professional, but the work she does is relatable to anyone who’s ever hit record on a device and let it run.
While also giving us a taste of her career and an admiration for what she’s done, Johnson explores a handful of recurring motifs that she’s found in the world, entirely about the human condition but within that is an infinite number of themes. She never outwardly says what these are, but the editing does this for us. The story of a young mother in Alabama that the director filmed is powerful on its own, but when followed by footage of the director’s own mother, the results are exponentially more effective in ways I’ve never seen film achieve.
One of my favorite motifs that the film makes is the idea of returning somewhere. This works twofold: sometimes in the film’s editing we’ll return back to a clip we’ve previously seen and it has another meaning given the other footage shown in between. On a more literal level, there are moments where the cameraperson returns to a location she’s been to after a period of time, something we all begin to experience more often as we grow older, and the effect is profound.
Because “Cameraperson” covers so much ground, goes so many locations, and causes so many emotional reactions, it’s densely packed to the point it feels like you’ve watched an entire series of films by the time you’re done. That’s a high compliment: it’s a pure feast of filmmaking that left me with the same fulfillment I’d get from watching 20 different documentaries.
The film is so dense that even though I saw it back in January at Sundance, I knew I’d need to see it again and found even more moments that stayed with me: its density means it’s hard to keep track of it all mentally, but this is the type of film that could easily invite a revisit. Given its experimental nature, it’s also easy to find more details upon a repeat viewing.
As a fan of film and its potential for personal impact, rarely has one so powerfully achieved so much. Unconventional movies generally are more alienating to viewers, but this one is the opposite: it’s an invitation to dive into the human experience, through the lens of one individual whose seen so much life around the world.
Few movies have done so much for me as a viewer and achieved new heights in the emotional and cinematic experiences that I seek out. I reiterate that this is one that can’t be missed, at the very least because it’s one I can’t wait to discuss with people as they see it for themselves. Extremely personal and simultaneously universal, “Cameraperson” is one of this year’s most essential cinematic achievements and a formidable contender for one of the best films of the year.
‘Cameraperson’ is not rated. 102 minutes. In theaters on Friday.
